20 July 08

Having seen to Emily's requirements, we set off for our night away in Chichibu, north of Tokyo. Ths was also by way of being a reccy for when Nick's family come, as there is a steam train that runs on the second leg of the route from Kumagaya to Nagatoro which Graham would like to ride.

We made our way to Ueno in the searing midday heat, to pick up the first of two trains. When we got there, as we were stood deliberating about which platform to go to, a woman fell onto me. At first I thought that she'd fainted and was concerned for her. Then I suspected that she was feigning illness in order to rob me as she was all over me, and tried to push her off. Finally we decided that she must be very drunk (although I couldn't actually smell alcohol on her). Much later it occurred to me that she might be having a diabetic hypo and I felt guilty. Every time I pushed her off she started to fall and I had to steady her. I began to get very hot and flustered and people were stopping to look; I was worrying that they might think an evil gaijin was trying to attack her, but luckily an onlooker had gone to fetch a member of staff. Mind you, he was young and seemed unsure what to do either. The drunk then latched into Nick's arm and would not let him go, though he had the buggy with Emily. Finally we managed to prise her off and make our escape, though not before hearing that she was bound for the same place as us.

Boarding the train later, sure enough, she was on the first carriage we tried, lying on the floor. We swiftly moved down the platform. The first leg seemed to take ages as it was a local train, though it was actually only an hour. It mainly passed through urban areas before finally getting out into villages dotted among rice fields. At Kumagaya we switched onto another local train for a further 50 minute journey into the wooded hills of the national park. The tracks ran alongside the attractive Aragawa river near our destination, Nagatoro, with lovely bamboo nodding beside it.

Disembarking we found our way easily to the nearby ryokan we'd booked: Chouseikan. At 20,000 yen (£100) each per night it was bound to be nice and we weren't disappointed. It was situated right on the banks of the river just where it emerges from a limestone gorge, and our spacious tatami room had a balcony looking out over the beautiful garden onto the water.

It would have been easy to stay in the cool room and drink in the view, but we decided to make the most of the afternoon remaining and go down to the river. It was extremely busy on the stony beach below, it being a holiday weekend, and boat trips departed from there so there were queues for that. Also, it was the finish point for white water dinghy trips and those aboard were jumping off to bob in the fast-moving current. Some groups were leaping about 10 feet off the rocks opposite. A few lads, probably locals, were tombstoning off higher rocks further up too.

Nick, always keen to go in any river or sea almost regardless of season, changed and got straight in. Unfortunately it was only a few feet deep just there, and where it was deeper further out, it was running too swiftly to bathe safely. He took Emily down to 'paddle' and she seemed to like it once she got used to the cold water.

Then it was my turn and I was determined not to chicken out. I felt a bit self-conscious with so many people around, especially as I have quite a tummy still, but somehow it didn't seem to matter as much because they weren't westerners. Lord knows why that should be. I was busting out of my bikini top, if you pardon the pun, and on emerging I felt a bit like Ursula Andress (in my dreams!). Anyway, the river wasn't as chilly as I'd feared, and because the air temperature was above 30 degrees with no breeze I didn't get cold once I'd got out again. I stayed in for a few minutes and even ventured out into the faster water as far as I dared.

They had provided a cute little chair for Emily so we used it to feed her (first time using packet food).

Afterwards she settled down immediately on her futon without any fuss. We went downstairs and were ushered along to our very own private dining room (each room eats in a separate booth). It felt almost like we were on a honeymoon somehow. Luckily the traditional tatami room had a footwell under the table, as I always get pins and needles if I have to sit on the floor. The large table was already set with several small dishes each, and the serving girl brought a small glass of complimentary chilled umeshu (plum liqueur).

She kept on bringing more and more food and in all we must have had about a dozen dishes each, plus a large salmon hotpot which cooks on a hotplate in the centre of the table (it would normally be meat but Nick had told them I am a pescatarian in advance). It's great to eat in ryokan, but it's never a la carte. A local speciality is a fish caught in the river, crusted with salt and cooked on a wooden spear over charcoal, and served skewered on a little straw bale.

I baulked at eating the poor thing with its teeth bared in a rictus grin. Even Nick couldn't eat all of it; the internal organs looked very unappetising. This was the first time that I'd felt so full in Japan: the dishes are always so small that even with many of them you don't usually feel stuffed.

We bided our time until 10 when we could wake Emily, sitting drowsily out in the hall with a small bottle of sake. It's odd staying at a ryokan with all the guests wandering around in their yukata (cotton robe) and slippers, even for dinner. It was way too hot to take advantage of the onsen bath, but we'd made up our minds already to come again in a cooler season.